


drop me a line

by honeycola



Category: GOT7
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-30
Updated: 2019-04-29
Packaged: 2020-02-10 02:33:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18651130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeycola/pseuds/honeycola
Summary: Im Jaebum is a songwriter excommunicated from the kpop industry and Jackson Wang finds his Soundcloud.





	drop me a line

**Author's Note:**

> Very Music and Lyrics inspired. Also inspired by [my favorite fanvideo ever of jackbum.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F8cWLvg-Pog)

Jaebum can recognize the thin, washi tape-decorated envelope sticking out of his door from a mile away. When he retrieves it, his landlord appears behind him. 

“Do you like the cat patterns? I’m trying to change up how I decorate your late rent letters,” Bambam says, perching his chin on Jaebum’s shoulder. “Geez, did your shoulders get wider?” 

“It’s been 1 day. You have to admit, I’ve improved from getting the rent in a week after it’s due,” Jaebum says, inserting the check into the front pocket of Bambam’s shirt. “But I appreciate you never charging me late fees.”

“Next time, it will be eviction,” Bambam says, and laughs at the dark turn Jaebum’s face takes. “Kidding, kidding!”

Jaebum socks Bambam in the shoulder. “Disrespectful, even after all the years that I took care of you at JYPE.” 

“I wouldn’t be Bambam if I wasn’t a little shit. Also, I liked your latest song on Soundcloud. Sick track, hyung,” Bambam says, before walking down the stairs. 

Jaebum locks himself inside his apartment, and slides his back down the door until he’s sitting on the floor, defeated. Sometimes he wishes that money came as easily as it used to.

“I guess this is what it means to be a starving artist,” Jaebum mutters, sorting out all the mail that he’s sitting on top of. Besides the late rent notices, Bambam does him other special favors such as slipping all of his mail through the door. There’s so much that’s accumulated during the week that he camped out at the studio, and it still shocks him how Bambam hasn’t tossed him to the streets yet. Maybe because Jaebum’s the only one who offers to take care of Bambam’s cats whenever he goes on his bi-monthly trips to the homeland. 

Jaebum notices a single envelope that doesn’t resemble a bill or obscure music magazine. He picks it up, a feather-light envelope from Hong Kong. 

“Team Wang,” Jaebum reads the sender address aloud. “Okay, this has got to be a scam.” 

Despite his inner skeptic, Jaebum rips open the envelope.

 

 

Sitting at a homely coffeeshop out all of the places in the nicest neighborhood, Jaebum becomes even more sure that this business meeting is all one, huge scam. 

_“Hello? This is Im Jaebum. You gave me this number to talk to a…” Jaebum flips open the letter again. “...Jackson Wang?”_

__

__

_“Im Jaebum? Please hold.”_

_A minute of the Crazy Rich Asians soundtrack passes until the other person returns. “What time works for you to meet with Mr. Wang?”_

The pretentious phone call falsely mislead Jaebum to think that this was going to be a fancy business meeting. He feels overdressed amongst the elderly folks and the teenagers.

“Wow, you’re better looking than I expected.” 

Jaebum turns around in his seat and his face almost makes contact with the front part of the stranger’s basketball shorts. Does he not know personal space? 

“Oh, I’m sorry. That probably sounded weird, seeing as how this is the first time we’re meeting,” the stranger says, taking in the confused look on Jaebum’s face. “You got a hazelnut latte here? I’ve been here so many times but never tried it. Maybe I’ll try it today-”

“You’re not some escort, right?” Jaebum interrupts, when the person takes a seat in front of him and waves over the waitress. “Because I was told that this was going to be a meeting about a song production.” 

The person laughs, mouth wide and happy. Jaebum’s never met someone so lively before. “Do I look like an escort? No, I’m Jackson. Jackson Wang.” 

Jaebum stares at him, not entirely sure what to say back. He watches this Jackson guy point at his half-empty drink, saying, “I want that. Exactly what he has.” 

“Have you never heard of me? Did you not do your research before this meeting?” Jackson asks, scratching the back of his head. “Man, this first meeting is going a lot rougher than I thought.” 

“I mean, I did try to search ‘Team Wang,’ but I kept getting a lot of gay porn sites,” Jaebum says, thinking back to how that was probably the first indication that this meeting was a huge mistake. 

“Oh, haha. In China, I’m much more popular,” Jackson says. “I’m not a gay porn star, I’m a musician there.”

Jaebum raises an eyebrow, remembering a vague picture of this Jackson guy hosting some awards show. Everything starts to click together, and he feels more calm about the situation. “I can believe that. On the Chinese web, there probably aren’t so many of these websites.” 

“I need you to help me not be associated with all those gay porn sites, haha.” Jackson says, and then suddenly deadpans. “Unless you want me to be.” 

Jaebum isn’t entirely sure to interpret the conversation as a huge language gap or a huge come-on. While Jaebum is traveling through his confusion, Jackson slaps both hands on the table. 

“So I found your Soundcloud, listened to a couple of your songs, and I really think that you’re the guy who can help me make it big in Korea,” Jackson says. 

“So you’re a famous celebrity in China trying to expand into Korea, and you think I can help you out?” Jaebum says. “I haven’t even listened to your songs yet.” 

“I don’t need you to. I dig your sound, man,” Jackson says. “If I’m even going to try to venture out here, I need to do something different. Do you understand?” 

“Look, I don’t produce the kind of music that most Korean people like,” Jaebum says. “If you really want to make it big, I can give you some numbers of some other folks that can help you out.”

He can feel Jackson stare at him intensely as he pulls out his phone, trying to find Jinyoung’s phone number in his short list of contacts. 

“I don’t think you get it. I want YOU to help me,” Jackson says, grabbing a napkin and pulling a pen out of his pocket. Maybe this is an actual business meeting after all. “Look, this is how much my company will offer if you’re willing to help me out.”

He scribbles onto the napkin furiously, folds it, and slides it across the table. Jaebum, bewildered by this entire exchange, watches Jackson stand up from his chair. “I’ll even send you a deposit so you know this is legit.” 

Jaebum sighs. “I’m just trying to be real with you. I know the music industry here better than anyone.” 

“Well, Mr. I-know-the-Korean-music-industry, I’m being real with you too,” Jackson says, fixing his cap. “Give it a thought, at least.” 

He puts a hand on Jaebum’s shoulder. “‘Sunrise’ is one of my favorite songs, by the way. Don’t worry about the tab.” 

Jaebum doesn’t unfold the napkin until he’s sure that this Jackson character has paid and left. He makes a mental note in his head to do a better job of looking up Jackson Wang on the internet. 

He unfolds the napkin and immediately texts a picture of it to Bambam.

**[ Jaebum @ 1:15 PM : ]** “I’d be crazy if I turned this down, right?”

His phone immediately buzzes. 

**[ Bambam @ 1:16 PM: ]** “Yes. You could finally pay back all your debt to me. And it still wouldn’t make a dent in this imaginary number you sent me.”

Jaebum shoves his phone into the pocket of his too-tight pants and sighs.


End file.
